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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444706">All Your Fires</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aate/pseuds/Aate'>Aate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blacksmith Thorin, F/M, Gandalf asks for Fili and Kili but gets Thorin instead, It's not manipulation if you're a meddling wizard, Meddling wizards meddle, Slow Burn, Thorin comes to Hobbiton to work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:47:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444706</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aate/pseuds/Aate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Unfortunately, it was the grumpy king who took up his suggestion to go find work in Hobbiton, not the two friendly princes Gandalf had specifically had in mind.</p><p>Bella Baggins can control fire, although most hobbits are tactful enough to not bring this unfortunate trait up in a polite conversation. Wizards don't have the same luxury, not when this ability could help an entire dwarven kingdom exiled from their home by a fire-breathing dragon.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>137</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was generally agreed upon that it could’ve been forgivable for Bella Baggins to have one undesirable trait, a member of the respectable Baggins family as she was. If she had been one to snore in her sleep like a growling wolf as her aunt Dandelion Baggins did, no-one would’ve thought much of it, and even poor baking skills could’ve been overlooked for someone of her status and wealth. If only she would’ve taken a husband and settled down, raised a few hobbitlings while growing tomatoes (and possibly even pumpkins like her uncle, Old Bobbins Baggins), hobbits would’ve gone as far as to keep quiet about her Tookish lust for wandering on the outskirts of Hobbiton and beyond.</p><p>But the Hobbiton hobbits would not – <i>could not</i> – look past her complete and utter disregard for handling fire in a proper manner.</p><p><i>It</i> – for hobbits dared not to call what Bella did anything but “it” – began when she was but a babe at her very first Midsummer festivities (although some dared to suggest <i>it</i> had begun even before and that Belladonna and Bungo Baggins had kept <i>it</i> from their relatives and neighbours on purpose because they knew <i>it</i> would ruin their daughter’s reputation). There was a bonfire at the center of the festivities by the Brandywine, hobbits were dancing and singing around it and all was very merry indeed. Like so many others, the Baggins family was having a picnic on the river bank.</p><p>And then suddenly the flames in the bonfire flew up into the sky and formed a tight small ball over the charred, smoking firewood – and then the fiery ball floated directly into the hands of one Bella Baggins who was babbling and gurgling on her back between her parents on the red-and-white picnic blanket. The merriment came to an instant halt, the music stopped, the bonfire stood cold, and – once they realized where the flames had gone – the hobbits watched on in shocked silence as the baby Baggins played happily with the ball of the bonfire flames like they were but a ball of yarn.</p><p>In August, <i>it</i> happened again when Bella Baggins put out the Harvest Day bonfire by pointing a finger at it.</p><p>In September, she reached out and took the fire right out of Sneezy Diddinton's pipe, and before anyone had the chance to do anything about it, her entire basket had been engulfed in flames with her in it, and by the time her parents and the horrified neighbours reached her, the basket was gone as were her clothes, along with the diaper, and Bella was sucking her thumb in a pile of ash and looked quite content. Not a hair on her head had been burnt.</p><p><i>It</i> became, of course, the talk of Hobbiton.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” said her mother, Belladonna Baggins after the umpteenth time <i>it</i> happened, this time at a market square where Hudolf Gamgee was trying to sell his candles and lanterns only for their flames to fly straight into Bella’s childishly round hands any time he tried to light his samples. “She doesn’t mean to cause any inconvenience, not really. She’s just a babe, she doesn’t know any better.”</p><p>Her apologies or the cakes Bungo Baggins took to the neighbours by way of apology did little to console anyone when Bella began to steal the fire right out of the pipes of respectable hobbits. When she saw someone smoking, she would reach out and the fire would fly straight to her and she would play with it while the owner of the pipe was left inconvenienced with a cold pipe. With the flames she stole, she burnt her basket with herself in it at least four more times - that the hobbits of Hobbiton knew of. Once she almost burnt down the Bobbin house while visiting, and it was only the quick reflexes of the young Jalli that saved the family from a catastrophe - or so the rumour had it, at least.</p><p>As a consequence of all this, <i>it</i> was deemed unnatural and foreign and so undesirable Belladonna and Bungo Baggins were no longer invited to parties where fires, candles or pipes would be lit - which meant they were no longer invited to any parties or gatherings, much to their chagrin.</p><p>It was therefore almost a relief for Belladonna and Bungo, Bella's father when Gandalf the Grey appeared unannounced in Hobbiton one foggy morning in early October when the harvest had been stored away and hobbits were preparing for winter in their cozy smials. It was a relief because Gandalf, if anyone, would know what to do with a babe who could control fire. So, once they had made sure the unexpected - but welcome - guest had been properly fed, they retired into the living room for tea and biscuits with Bella falling asleep on Bungo’s arms. The hosts had an armchair each, while Gandalf took most of the sofa since Bag End didn’t have furniture in his size, and even though the wizard had insisted he didn’t mind, Bungo felt a sting like any a Baggins should when there was a chance they were being a poor host, and so it fell to Belladonna to approach the topic they so eagerly wished to discuss with Gandalf. </p><p>“Oh, Gandalf,” she therefore sighed, stirring the chamomile tea in distress, after explaining their plight and Bella's strange abilities. “What could cause such a thing?"</p><p>Gandalf hummed, thoughtfully, looking down at his tea.</p><p>"I have my suspicions," he finally said, "but may they remain suspicions for speculation would bear no fruit, I believe."</p><p>"Is it a sickness?" she wasn't ready to give up. "I love my little one so, but I fear she will be turned into an outcast by her peers. Could you please do something to help her? Please, can you – <i>could</i> you cure her?”</p><p>Gandalf gave her a stern look over the porcelain cup that looked tiny in his large hand.</p><p>“Belladonna Baggins,” his voice was scolding, “I cannot and will not cure her because the child is not ill. Whatever has caused this, I assure you nothing ails your daughter. There are many who would beg and plead to have the gift Bella has been given, if they knew such gifts existed. You have seen enough of the world to know this to be true.”</p><p>Bungo cleared his throat – as a proper Baggins, he was always visibly uncomfortable when someone brought up his wife’s adventuring past.</p><p>“Perhaps we didn’t explain well enough, Mr. Gandalf, but the truth of the matter is, my daughter can…” he coughed, “she can… That is to say, she can…”</p><p>“She can control fire,” Belladonna finished for him. “She can take flames into her hand and work them like they were nothing but clay. She can put them out with a point of a finger. Bella <i>controls fire</i>, Gandalf.”</p><p>“Precisely,” said Gandalf with a decisive nod, “and what a gift that is.”</p><p>“It’s <i>not</i> a gift! She will be shunned for it! No-one will want to marry her, she won’t have children, she will-”</p><p>“My dear Belladonna!" Gandalf's stern voice cut her off. "Bella has <i>the ability to control fire</i> – rest assured, she is meant to accomplish greater things than finding a husband.”</p><p>“I should hope not!” said Bungo, scandalized, holding Bella protectively to his chest.</p><p>Belladonna set her jaw, even as she did pour Gandalf more tea as good manners demanded.</p><p>“I know I have my past,” she said, stiffly, “but that’s exactly what it is – my <i>past</i>, and as you well know, Gandalf, I’ve had my fair share of adventures. I <i>know</i> the world can be a dangerous place. You do remember that time when we saw that orc, don’t you, not to mention that entire warg pack!</p><p>“Before I had a family and responsibilities of my own, I admit I did enjoy adventuring, but I don’t want any of that for my daughter. If she has a Tookish side that yearns to adventure like I did, I will encourage her to venture to Bree, but not further than that. Bag End, a vegetable garden, a good husband and as many children as they like – that is what I wish for her. A good life. A happy life. A simple life, free of orcs and wargs and other dangers. I have seen enough of the world to know the ability to control fire invites hardship and <i>danger</i>, whether we want that or not, and as her mother, I don't want her to invite hardship into her life. That is why I believe she would be better off without this… <i>gift</i>.”</p><p>Gandalf regarded her in silence, his face inscrutable.</p><p>“My wishes aren’t entirely dissimilar, believe it or not,” he eventually said. “I as well do wish she will be happy, regardless of whatever else may happen. Perhaps you have forgotten, my dear, that there is more to adventures than danger. Surely you have not forgotten Rivendell or her wise lord?”</p><p>Her shoulders dropped. She heaved a sigh.</p><p>"I will never forget Elrond and his welcoming kin, nor the beauty of Rivendell," she sounded wistful, tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear, "and while I wish with all my heart I could visit them one more time, I know that I never will because no valley, Elven or otherwise, is worth the life of my daughter. I will not risk her. I love her and my husband more than adventuring. I will do all I can to keep them safe, even if it means stifling an ability some might consider a gift."</p><p>Gandalf harrumphed, but didn’t say anything more, just sat there in thought whilst holding the empty tea cup for many hours until Bungo secretly thought it was quite rude of him to just sat there without talking.</p><p>***</p><p>“My goodness, hobbitling, you should let Gandalf have a turn to speak!”</p><p>Pausing mid-sentence, Bella looked towards the carrot plot where mama was kneeling and wiping sweat off her face with the back of her hand, her green gardening gloves leaving a smudge of dirt on her forehead. She was thinning carrots like Bella was supposed to be doing too, but Gandalf’s beard was long and grey and it looked prettier with flowers in it and since Gandalf hadn’t deemed to decorate his beard, the task had fallen to Bella.</p><p>“Yes, mama,” she said dutifully, swinging her legs as she sat on Gandalf’s knee, her feet dangling high above the grassy ground below, as she went on with decorating Gandalf’s long grey beard with forget-me-nots and dandelions which grew aplenty on the rolling green hills surrounding her home.</p><p>As she had promised, Bella did give Gandalf a turn to speak. She waited patiently while Gandalf put the pipe between his lips and drew the smoke in and blew it out, but then –</p><p>“<i>Why</i> is it that people say ‘good morning’, Gandalf? Do they wish me a good morning, or do they mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that they feel good that morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”</p><p>She said all this very fast. The questions exploded out of her, holding them in as she had been, and she heard mama’s sigh even as Gandalf’s eyes twinkled.</p><p>Sometimes Bella wondered if Gandalf had stars in his eyes, so similarly to the Great Fork they often twinkled, like this afternoon when she was sitting on Gandalf’s knee in the garden while mama thinned the carrots and papa painted the fence and Gandalf smoked his pipe.</p><p>“What are stars?” she wondered out loud, looking up, up, up, higher than Gandalf even, up at the blue sky where there were puffy white clouds and some promise of rain. “And why can’t you see them during the day? Where do they go? And why are they so small? Have you ever seen a star up close, Gandalf?”</p><p>Gandalf was so wise he had answers to all questions even if Bella didn’t always wait to hear his answers because new more interesting topics came up, and this was just one reason why Bella Baggins loved Gandalf the Grey. She had even decided they would marry when she grew up so that Gandalf would come to live in Bag End with Bella and mama and papa. Each night, papa would tuck her in and mama would bring her warm milk and Gandalf would tell her stories of faraway places and elves and other things Bella loved nearly as much as she loved strawberries and Gandalf the Grey.</p><p>“Oh?” said Gandalf when she informed him of her plans.</p><p>“Yes,” said Bella with a decisive nod as she tied her second favourite blue ribbon in the coarse beard, even as she heard papa muttering something about marriages and wizards and having to go “over his dead body” from where he was painting the fence, “and I shan’t have a single nightmare when I’m big because you all will wait by my bed till I fall asleep.”</p><p>“Every night?”</p><p>“Every night,” Bella confirmed, “because then you won’t need to leave Hobbiton ever, Gandalf, because you’ll be living with <i>us</i>, so you’ll have the time to spare.”</p><p>The wrinkles deepened on the ancient face and Gandalf hummed thoughtfully as he blew out four perfect smoke rings much to Bella’s delight. Gandalf was so wonderful! He could blow out smoke rings and had the best stories and he even had wonderful fireworks, and he smelt like moss which was a perfectly respectable scent for anyone to have. Bella smelt of raspberry soap which was also a perfectly respectable scent for anyone to have, as she had informed Gandalf when she had been telling him of her favourite scents (apple pastries, possibly) and least favourite scents (fish balls, without a doubt) just that morning after breakfast.</p><p>“But my dearest Bella,” Gandalf said once the smoke rings had evaporated in the warm summer air and her attention had moved from the vanished rings to the curious hair in his nostrils, “if I shan’t never leave on my adventures, how will I ever get new stories to tell you?”</p><p>Slightly startled, Bella paused. She hadn’t thought of that. What if Gandalf did indeed run out of stories? She so loved them. It was a concern indeed.</p><p>“We could go on adventures <i>together</i>,” she suggested, brightening instantly at the idea of exploring the far ends of Hobbiton with Gandalf. Just in case Gandalf had any doubts, she made sure to explain in detail how mama could pack lunch for them like she did when Bella went adventuring on her own and how they could go as far as Old Bobbin’s pumpkin farm, or even the mushroom forest beyond it! Bella had been there twice on her own and it was a good place for adventuring because it was very, very far.</p><p>“Very far indeed,” said Gandalf, gravely, when she finally gave him the opportunity to voice his thoughts on the matter, but just as Bella was beginning to worry Old Bobbin’s farm would be <i>too far</i> even for Gandalf, he smiled in what seemed to be approval and Bella’s worries evaporated like the smoke of Gandalf’s long pipe. And then Gandalf – the wonderful, amazing Gandalf – went on to say, “Who knows, perhaps we could even stay the night outdoors sometimes,” and the promise of an <i>overnight adventure</i> with <i>Gandalf</i> was enough to have Bella springing to her feet in excitement.</p><p>She could think of little else the rest of the day, and papa’s frown deepened and mama’s sighs grew more worried and Gandalf let out his thoughtful humming noises when Bella came up with new destinations they could explore together when she was a little bit bigger and Gandalf was living with them. And when mama suggested all four of them could have their second breakfast by the Brandywine <i>the very next day</i> so that she could "at least be taught the way a proper Baggins could adventure <i>respectfully</i> with no need to be excessive", Bella got so excited she wanted to go right away but instead forced herself to sit still as mama oiled and combed first her foot hair, then her cherry-red curls before papa tucked her in and mama brought her warm milk and Gandalf sat by her bed, crouching to fit in her bedroom, to tell her the story of the elf twins who lived in a beautiful Elven valley with big libraries and lovely music and their wise father, and she fell asleep and dreamt of elves and faraway places.</p><p>But the next morning, to her great disappointment, there was a deluge of rain and the adventure was cancelled because papa didn’t want to have his second breakfast getting wet.</p><p>After eating, Bella was no longer quite as cross as she had first been when she had seen the rain outside upon waking up and she ended up playing elves in the living room with Gandalf who didn’t mind playing the part of the wise elf father while Bella played the part of both of the elf twins who did all kinds of mischief, according to Gandalf’s stories.</p><p>As the elf twins, she skipped around the room like she was riding a horse – a real horse, big and all – and took books out of the bookshelf to build her own Elven valley around Gandalf the Wise Elf Father. Gandalf advised her on where to leave gaps for gates and soon she had him surrounded by Wall of Book and Scriptures. Because the elf twins were mischievous, she ended up balancing on top of Wall of Book and Scriptures on one leg, and then she tied Gandalf’s legs together with the ribbon she took off her hair and when Gandalf said, “However will I now get to the bathroom in time?” she laughed so hard she nearly couldn’t breathe.</p><p>When her laughter had turned into giggles, she was so energized mama would’ve said she had become “too wild” and needed to “calm down, right this instant, young lady,” but mama was reading in the study and papa had gone to visit the Gamgee’s and there was no-one there but Gandalf who seemed to like playing with her just as much as she enjoyed playing with him.</p><p>Intent on keeping on amusing her wizard friend, Bella looked around for inspiration. Her eyes went to the dancing flames in the fireplace. She <i>wasn’t supposed to</i> touch the fire, she knew. Papa had told her not to take the flames into her hand and mama had been strict about it, too. But Gandalf was her friend and he wouldn’t tell on her, and besides, she was now an elf twin and the elf twins did all kinds of mischief.</p><p>“Look,” she therefore told Gandalf, grinning, before reaching out a hand and calling for the flames in her mind. She felt them responding like she was a magnet they couldn’t resist and an instant later she had a ball of fire in the palm of her hand while the wood in the fireplaces was left charred and cooled. She showed the fireball to Gandalf, simultaneously wary about and excited for his reaction.</p><p>Gandalf regarded the fireball in silence. Gently, he took a hold of her arm, his warm hand huge around her wrist, and leant down to get a closer look. He brought his finger close to the fire and then quickly withdrew it as if hurt.</p><p>“It doesn’t burn you?”</p><p>“No,” Bella said, and even though Gandalf didn’t look angry or scared or anything, the atmosphere in the room had suddenly become solemn. Bella couldn’t quite tell what had changed, but she certainly didn’t feel like giggling anymore. “It never does.”</p><p>The flames were dancing on her palm.</p><p>“How curious,” he mused after a while before letting out a puff of air to blow the fire out. He turned her hand this way and that, touching the skin as if to make sure no harm had been done.</p><p>Eventually he let go off her and leant back.</p><p>“Bella Baggins,” he said after a pause, the look in his eyes tender, “you have been given a rare gift indeed. Use it well.”</p><p>After that, they went back to playing elves and even though it rained and no adventures were to be had, it still ended up being a nice day.</p><p>So intent Bella was on playing the role of the elf twins she missed the way the tenderness in the depths of Gandalf’s eyes turned gradually into grief, nor did she notice his deepening worry lines nor the air of guilt about him as his eyes took in the peaceful smial and the child playing at his feet whilst he ran a finger along the long barrel of a curious-looking silver key he had fished out of the hoards of his grey robes.</p><p>***</p><p>"Promise me," asked Belladonna when the day of Gandalf's sudden departure came in late July in a form of four eagles landing unexpectedly on Bag End's roof among the geraniums. "Promise me, Gandalf, that you will never ask for my daughter to join you on an adventure. I will not have you endangering her."</p><p>"There are many who need her help," admitted Gandalf, gravely. "She is needed."</p><p>"Promise me," she half pleaded, half demanded. "She's my daughter, Gandalf. Don't endanger her. Let her have a simple life in Hobbiton. Don't ask her to join you like you asked me. Please."</p><p>Gandalf sighed, long and deep.</p><p>"I promise you I won't be the one asking," he finally said, "but one day I will introduce her to someone who needs her help. It will be up to her if she will help them or not. I will not pressure her, nor will they. I cannot promise you more, and I'm sorry for it."</p><p>Belladonna wiped away a tear.</p><p>"Then I must ask, my old friend," her voice broke, "that you will never come to Bag End again."</p><p>A moment later, the eagles, carrying Gandalf, soared up to the sky and Bella wept her disappointment in her mother's embrace.</p><p>“Well,” sighed Bungo, twining an arm around his wife and daughter, “that will give the neighbours something to talk about.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Of Good Mornings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three quarters before it was the time to have second breakfast, Bella Baggins was tending to her prize-winning tomatoes in her vegetable garden, humming with a full belly, when suddenly a shadow fell on her. Alarmed, she looked up in case she had been wrong about the weather after all and a rain cloud was approaching and she would need to remove the apple pie from the windowsill, but while what she now saw was very grey indeed, it certainly was not a cloud of any kind.</p><p>It was an old man, one of the big folk, and her astonishment had the shrub rake dropping out of her grasp. Valar above – big folk, right there in front of her fine hobbit hole!</p><p>Scrambling up to her feet, she stammered, “G-good morning!” only for the stranger to tilt his head as if in bewilderment. He leant onto a long wooden shaft with wrinkled hands, although something about his easy stance suggested he didn’t exactly need its support for walking. Perhaps it was an accessory, the man did seem to have quite an eccentric sense for fashion.</p><p>“Whatever do you mean, my dear hobbit?” he asked, blue eyes twinkling like he meant to tease her, and the unexpected familiarity had Bella quite lost for words. “Do you wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”</p><p>He towered over Bella expectantly like a mountain right there on the other side of the immaculately white fence in his shabby, grey robes. His grey beard came down to his chest and Bella had to crane her neck to see the flimsy grey hat that pointed up towards the sky like someone had wrapped their cedar in grey burlap and had then put it on top of the man’s head. </p><p>“All of them, I suppose,” she managed after a pause, quite overwhelmed. “It... it is a lovely weather, after all.”</p><p>“<i>For now</i>,” she then added, quickly. “In fact, right at this moment it is the perfect weather for walking, but it might rain later, so perhaps you should find shelter before any a storm might hit us. Do you need directions? I’d be glad to point you to the direction of Bree, if that’s where you’re heading to.”</p><p>The man stood suddenly even taller.</p><p>“Well, I never! To think I saw the day when Bella Baggins shoos me away like a stray without even inviting me over to share second breakfast!”</p><p>He sounded offended and Bella apologized quite instinctively before coming to a pause, realizing he had just called her by her name. With her eyes narrowing, she stepped out of his shadow and studied him more closely, something about him suddenly familiar to her.</p><p>Not many of the big folk found their way to Hobbiton. In fact, she only knew of one.</p><p>“Gandalf?” she suddenly realized, and the blue eyes twinkled down at her like they held the entire universe in them.</p><p>
  <i>Safety. Warmth. Endless patience for a small hobbitling clinging to him.</i>
</p><p>“Gandalf!” she cried, tearing her gardening gloves off her hands even as she hurried to the fence, reaching over it to grasp Gandalf’s hands. The sunny day had just become even brighter. “Welcome, <i>welcome</i>, old friend! It has been a while, far too long. Why, I was but a girl when we last saw each other! Oh, you must join me for second breakfast and tell me all about your travels, I insist.”</p><p>“You always did like my stories,” Gandalf sounded suitably delighted, but then he sighed, his shoulders hunching, “but I fear I must decline the offer to join you at second breakfast. I must honour the wishes of a friend who did once ask me to not come to Bag End again. That is why I have to stay on this side of the fence.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be silly,” Bella scolded him gently, giving his hands – lined and wrinkled with time – the final squeeze before letting go. “Whatever rife you and my mother had, surely it’s in the past.”</p><p>She paused, uncertain, hands grasping her dress.</p><p>“Although I must tell you,” her voice came out soft, “that my parents have passed away. Many years ago. You shan’t find them here anymore.”</p><p>There was a long, deep sigh, and Gandalf’s eyes closed as if in grief.</p><p>“May I ask,” said Gandalf, eyes still closed, “how it came to be?”</p><p>She swallowed hard, studying the white paint on the fence. Time had eased the pain, but it had never gone away completely. They had been her confidants, her dearest friends. Her protectors.</p><p>Her family.</p><p>“My father died of a lung disease, mother followed him eight years later. She died peacefully in her sleep, although the specific cause of her death remained unclear. At the time I thought she died of a broken heart and that’s what I still believe. Their hearts were of the same apple, after all, and how could one half go on without the other.”</p><p>A weight landed on her shoulder. Gandalf let his hand rest there.</p><p>“They are now together once more,” he promised, regarding her gently, “and they are being looked after.”</p><p>She gave him a tight smile.</p><p>“Yes. Well.”</p><p>His hand fell off her shoulder when she turned her back to him and walked to the tomatoes to pick up the shrub rake. She shook most of the dirt off it before putting it in the pocket of her gardening apron along with the gardening gloves.</p><p>“In any case, Gandalf, I must insist that you join me for second breakfast,” she changed the subject. “Whatever argument there was is now in the past. I had no part in it, so please, honour me by being my guest.”</p><p>In the end, Gandalf refused to enter Bag End’s grounds out of respect for Belladonna’s memory, but Bella could be nearly as stubborn and so she arranged for them to have second breakfast at the fence. She brought him her sturdiest bench – even though it was too low for Gandalf who had to sit in a crouching position with his knees to his chest – and a garden stool for herself and filled the garden table with croissants and pudding and tarts and all other things a proper second breakfast should have and then poured Gandalf tea, and by the time she was done, her neighbours had found excuses to be out and about and she didn’t miss the way they were being studied from the surrounding yards.</p><p>“By afternoon, you will be the talk of Hobbiton,” she confided in Gandalf, apologetically.</p><p>“I am an endless source for gossip indeed,” he sounded <i>proud</i>, of all things. “I once overheard a group of High Elves speculating on my relationship status. It went on for about a few thousands of years before they tired. It was highly amusing while it lasted.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Bella managed, overwhelmed by the idea of someone living for thousands of years –  for long enough to <i>gossip</i> a few thousands of years – and for Gandalf to casually hear <i>High Elves</i> gossiping about him. And to imagine he was now telling about all that to <i>her</i>, of all beings – she was lucky indeed!</p><p>It took a while to catch up, so long they had been apart. Bella gave a short summary of her life so far – her tomatoes had been chosen as the best in Hobbiton for eleven years running at the Harvest Day celebrations, her peas had come third after Jalli Bobbins’ and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins’ – and Gandalf told of his travels amongst Men, Elves, and Dwarves.</p><p>“That is in all actuality why I am here,” he said after finishing his third cup of tea – <i>botheration but she didn’t own cups big enough for him</i> – and Bella hastened to pour him more, just to keep him from finding an excuse to leave just yet. She hadn’t realized how she had longed to hear stories of the world beyond Hobbiton, beyond the Shire, but she now found herself hanging on his every word regardless of the gawking neighbours.</p><p>“Whatever do you mean?”</p><p>For a few moments, Gandalf’s face was inscrutable as he regarded her from behind his knees on top of which he rested the tea cup and a muffin.</p><p>“I was hoping,” he began, slowly, “that you might find it in yourself to allow a friend to stay in Bag End for the summer.”</p><p>Oh. <i>Oh.</i></p><p>“Oh, but of course!”</p><p>To have Gandalf stay with her for the whole summer? Oh, all the stories he would tell!</p><p>“I would be happy to have company for the summer.”</p><p>Gandalf smiled, but there was still some tension about him.</p><p>“Might the friend in question also be as daring as to impose on your hospitality to have his brother join him? They are quite inseparable."</p><p>Oh.</p><p>In all honesty, Bella was a bit thrown by the question. She hadn’t even known Gandalf had a brother! But then again, she had been but a hobbitling when they had last met and of course there was much to the wizard she didn’t know.</p><p>“I would be honoured to have such summer guests,” she promised, earnestly, already planning the sleeping arrangements. She didn’t have large enough beds fitting for big folk, but she could have such made in a few weeks’ time. Bedding wouldn’t be a problem, although she would need to sew some blankets together, too small as they would otherwise be. If she emptied the study, Gandalf would fit in there, and the brother could sleep in the guest room.</p><p>She spared a thought on the Secret under her bed – on the art she made by burning images on wood, using flames like others used a brush – but she was fairly certain Gandalf and his brother wouldn’t impose on her privacy in such a manner as to go snooping in her private things. Really, little would have to change – she could go about her daily routines with the added perk that she would get to hear new stories each day. And when the need to connect with fire would become overwhelming, she could always go to the woods and do some fire-painting there where no-one would see. It wasn’t like two wizards would judge her for disappearing on her adventures for a few days, even if that didn’t make her the best of hostesses.</p><p>Neighbours would talk, of course, and come autumn she would be as lonely as ever, perhaps even more so after spending the summer among friends, and –</p><p>“It is settled then,” said Gandalf, looking relieved, before she had the time to truly second guess herself. “You better start preparing, my dear. Your summer guests will need a place to stay this very evening.”</p><p>Startled, Bella jumped up to her feet in such a haste she almost tipped the teapot over.</p><p>“This evening!” she cried, already gathering the remains of the second breakfast – apart from Gandalf’s half-eaten muffin – onto the tray she had lain by the side of the table when settling down to eat. “Gandalf, you should’ve said! Oh, I have so much to do! There’s the dinner and the supper – oh, and there need to be night snacks, just in case someone feels peckish in the early hours – and I am nearly out of breakfast scones, and I need to have more soap for the bathing room – rosy, I think, or apple – and the guest room needs to be aired out – the hallway floor has to be washed, of course, and I’ll need to do some sewing.”</p><p>Drawing a mental list of all the things she would need to do to prepare the house for guests, she carried the tray into the kitchen, storing the leftovers in the pantry, and did a quick job of washing the dishes. By the time she was dressed in her market outfit – moss green skirt with a burgundy bodice over a white shirt and her third best straw hat – and got outside with a basket, ready to go the market square, Gandalf was no longer anywhere to be seen. The sturdy bench had been lifted on Bag End’s side of the fence and the neighbours were still on the lookout, but otherwise there were no signs that a wizard had ever been in the vicinity.</p><p>She didn’t have time to wonder about wizards and their ways – she would have the whole summer for that – and so she went about her chores and tasks for the day, ignoring the questions the neighbours shot in her way the moment she was close enough for them to do so.</p><p>***</p><p>With new blankets rolled under her arms, carrying a heavy basket full of ingredients varying from chicken to salt, Bella was quite unprepared for the gust of wind that hit her on her way back to Bag End from the market square. Even less prepared she was for losing her third favourite straw hat, but that’s exactly what happened when the summer breeze snatched it right off her carefully combed curls.</p><p>The wind took her hat – <i>Her third best straw hat, perfect for visits to the market square!</i> – and she turned in time to see it flying through the air, down the hill straight towards the Brandywine river.</p><p>“Oh dear,” she said, lowering her purchases down onto the ground before running after it. She would not lose another hat, not her third favourite!</p><p>Only, it seemed like she would. The wind was faster than a hobbit, no matter how fast she moved her feet, and even though the hat landed onto the ground once or twice for a few moments at a time, the wind snatched it up again just before Bella managed to reach it.</p><p>“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” she panted, as she ran after her third favourite straw hat, and just when she thought it all lost – just when the hat was on the river bank but a gust away from the rapids – a sturdy figure appeared out of the bushes by the road and came to a halt but a step away from the hat. What luck!</p><p>“Please, stop my hat!” Bella cried and the dwarf – for Bella knew instantly he was a dwarf even if she had never seen one – looked towards her.</p><p>“My hat!</p><p>He made no move to stop the hat and instead just looked towards Bella who was running straight towards him, towards her hat.</p><p>Bella saw the wind moving the hat just an inch, and –</p><p>“My hat!” she cried again, desperate. “Kindly stop my hat!”</p><p>The dwarf – big and dark and possibly quite frightening, if a hat had not been in danger – finally looked about him and seemed to notice the hat at his feet. He glanced towards Bella, then at the hat. There was a breeze, it whirled about him, blowing his long black hair around his broad shoulders – and just as the wind was about to take the hat into the rapids from where it could not have been saved, the dwarf lifted his leg – and brought his heavy Dwarven boot down onto it, hard. There was a crunching sound, loud enough to reach Bella’s ears, and she winced at the sight of her third best straw hat crushed by the heel of a heavy boot.</p><p>“…my hat,” she squeaked, just then reaching the dwarf and coming to a halt in front of him. She was panting, he was glowering, and the hat was crushed under his stupid boot.</p><p>After a pause, the dwarf inclined his head.</p><p>“My lady,” he grunted and then bent down to pull the crushed hat from between his boot and the muddy river bank. He presented it to Bella with a bit of a bow. “I presume this is yours.”</p><p>The hat was brown with mud and crushed beyond prepare, but Bella accepted it, turning it this way and that to try and see if there was <i>anything</i> that could be done. But no: the straws had been snapped in half, the white bow had a boot mark on it. It looked exactly like it had been trod on by a dwarf.</p><p>“You certainly did stop it,” said Bella with a resigned sigh because, yes, fair enough, she had not said anything about <i>saving</i> the hat, just about stopping it. “Although I wish you would’ve been gentler about it.”</p><p>The dwarf was frowning, studying the ruined hat as if only just realizing the damage his boot had done to it.</p><p>“I made you a favour by revealing its fragility. Such a frail headwear would not have protected you from much. I recommend leather, at the very least, if you oppose to padding.”</p><p>Now it was Bella’s turn to frown, even as she cleaned most of the mud off the hat with the help of some bulrush. It had been her third favourite straw hat, Yavanna knew! There was no need to go calling it “frail” or “fragile”. It had been pretty and perfectly functional.</p><p>“It was supposed to protect me from sunlight,” she informed him, “and I dare say it served its purpose perfectly.”</p><p>“Sunlight is dangerous to hobbits?”</p><p>“Not as such, no, but I wouldn’t want to burn my face due to overexposure.”</p><p>In truth, just like fire, sunlight didn’t harm her, but the dwarf didn’t need to know she had liked the hat simply because it looked nice on her.</p><p>Well, had looked.</p><p>Now it wouldn’t look nice on anyone, so she would turn it into fertilizer once she got back home. It would help her petunias to grow beautiful.</p><p>“Ah,” the dwarf said, looking down at the hat in Bella’s hands like it had offered him personal insult. “It’s for comfort.”</p><p>“No,” said Bella, “it <i>was</i> for comfort and I quite liked it – which is why I asked you to stop it.”</p><p>“We have established as much,” said the dwarf, “and I now have your thanks.”</p><p>Bella sputtered. She had not thanked him – although perhaps she should since he <i>had</i> tried to help even if the help had ended up destroying her hat.</p><p>“You have my thanks,” she acceded and he inclined his head regally.</p><p>He had blue eyes and the kindness in them didn’t quite match his fierce looks. Without quite meaning to, Bella looked her share. He was taller than her, considerably bulkier, and she took in the strange, foreign clothes with fur linings and metal details, so very unlike anything a hobbit might wear, and – oh dear – <i>was that an actual sword!</i></p><p>“I must go,” she said, suddenly well aware she was standing alone on the river bank with a foreign dwarf <i>who was armed</i> and quite possibly used to violence. She took several hasty steps backwards, rude though it might have been to make such an obvious retreat, and held the muddy remains of her hat in front of her like a shield.</p><p>“I have frightened you,” the dwarf said, softly, but it wasn’t enough to halt Bella in her steps.</p><p>“Thank you again,” she hastened to say instead, “and goodbye. Safe travels, my good dwarf!”</p><p>“Likewise, Mistress Hobbit,” he heard the deep voice from behind her when she turned and hurried uphill to where she had left her purchases.</p><p>The dwarf didn’t follow, much to her relief, and she saw him heading east, following the road towards Bree.</p><p>“My goodness, Bella Baggins,” she said to herself, trying to calm down, but after a moment or two, she grinned.</p><p>A dwarf <i>with a sword</i>!</p><p>Gandalf and his brother wouldn’t believe what an adventure she had just had!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to MisteeSky and LadyLaran for commenting on the first chapter! I wouldn't have continued the story if it wasn't for you. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Unexpected Meetings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pot of beet soup was bubbling on the stove, the smell of freshly baked bread lingered in the air, and Bella was just taking the ham out of the oven when there was a demanding knock on the door of her fine smial, the kind of a knock that sounded more like an announcement of an arrival than a request to open the door. Focused on preparing the meal as she had been, the sudden loud sound gave Bella a start, but a hobbit was never to drop her food and so she managed to get the ham onto the table before anything unfortunate could happen to it.</p><p>“I’m coming!” she called out when the demanding knock came the second time, and sudden pain shot up her arm when her elbow hit the unwelcoming edge of an open ladle cupboard. “<i>Ow, botheration.</i> I’m coming!”</p><p>She closed the cupboard in a haste with a little bit more force than entirely necessary and, rubbing her aching elbow, went to the door and pulled it open – to reveal an expanse of metal-clad chest lined by warg fur. She followed the chest up, up, up, and, <i>oh</i>-</p><p>“You!” she stammered.</p><p>“<i>You</i>,” growled the dwarf, the very same who had trod on her hat that very morning, the look on his bearded face darkening at the sight of her, and she grasped the door, not quite pushing it closed, but prepared to do so if necessary.</p><p>Had he <i>followed –</i></p><p>She set her jaw and stepped in full view from behind the door, standing in front of him with her arms akimbo, steadfast as the apron ties were fast around her waist. The flames in the stove were within the reach of her call, if the need to defend herself would arise, but by Yavanna’s blessings, she would not hide in her home, not in Bag End built by her parents, not even from large and intimidating dwarrows!</p><p>“Did you <i>follow</i> me here to my home?” she demanded, half accusing, half in question. His blue eyes narrowed, he regarded her down his nose, and she resisted the urge to throw herself behind the door to hide.</p><p>His words, when they finally came, were a low rumble, sinister like approaching thunder.</p><p>“Are you <i>mocking</i> me, hobbit?”</p><p>“Of course not.”</p><p>“Do you make light of my troubles on purpose, or are you, like my nephews, an innocent caught unaware in this honourless scheming?”</p><p>He glared, she gaped and stood as tall as she could, the top of her head coming up to his shoulder.</p><p>“I know nothing of any schemes you might have gotten yourself caught in,” she said, firmly but politely, and resisted the urge to poke his broad chest with a finger to emphasize her words, “and believe me, I do not find you amusing at all, Master Dwarf, so I would not enjoy myself at your expense. I do, however, demand an explanation as to why I now find you standing at my door, so I ask again – <i>did you follow me to my home</i> and if so, for what purpose?”</p><p>“I did not follow you, Mistress Hobbit,” the dwarf said, haughtily as if the mere suggestion offended him, “but had I known this is where you were heading to, following you would have saved me from hours of aimless wondering. I crossed a river, twice, and walked across woods and planes of dirt alike until I found my way back to these unprotected, grassy hills, and even then I lost my way twice. None would give me directions. I believe I wouldn’t have found my way here at all if it hadn’t been for the mark on the outer barricades of your fortification.”</p><p>His face took on a pained look when his eyes flickered to the side. She followed his gaze.</p><p>“On the… outer barricades of… my… fortification,” Bella stammered, finding herself wringing her apron. Was he talking about her fence? That was what he was looking at, at the very least.</p><p>“The barricades will not hold your enemies back for long. I would recommend granite, if you are opposed to muria. You would not survive a siege if it were to come with the dawn.”</p><p>“I- I’m not intending to-“ she began, but then the worst of it hit her, “A mark! What mark? There are no marks on my fence – I just painted it last week! I let you know it is quite immaculate – I have had compliments, <i>plural</i>.”</p><p>As she said this, she pushed pass by him to study the fence. No marks on Bag End’s side, but when she hurried through the gate to the other side, she did notice a peculiar mark – almost like the letter F facing in the wrong direction – carved into one of the planks.</p><p>“Oh dear…”</p><p>How long had it been there? How many had seen it?</p><p>Trying to recall if there had been anyone walking by her smial since that morning, she quickly untied her apron and hang it on the fence to cover the strange carving – it was much more respectful to air out an apron on the fence, wasn’t it, she much preferred the neighbours would see her ordinary baking apron than the strange carving.</p><p>“Am I to presume,” the dwarf said from where he had followed her on this side of the fence, “that you did not know of the mark before I revealed it to you just now?”</p><p>“I certainly did not! The fence, it really <i>was</i> immaculate just this morning, or at least yesterday evening,” she needed to explain lest he might think anyone could just come and <i>carve things</i> on it – who knew, he might take his sword to the fence otherwise. “I would never have allowed anyone to- to <i>vandalize</i> my property. Who could’ve done such a thing!”</p><p>She arranged the apron to cover the carving as fully as she could – thank Yavanna it was the time for supper and all the neighbours were eating in their smials instead of witnessing her plight – while he muttered something harsh in a language she didn’t recognize and turned his face up towards the darkening sky as if to pray for patience.</p><p>Suspicious, she looked him up and down from the braids on his greying temple down to the heavy sword that hung on his hip to the boots she was already well acquainted with, and took in the big leather bag on his shoulders, the furry bedroll on top of it all. He was clearly used to wandering, had come here from much further than Bree, far enough to notice an odd carving on a fence and to take such a mark for an invitation to enter the premises.</p><p>She could feel the flames in the oven dying down leaving only embers behind, and she quickly reached for them, gave them power to grow stronger. With a thought, she had them come closer, all the way to the hallway from where no-one could possibly see the fiery ball, but from where the flames could fly to her faster than the dwarf could reach for his sword. She didn’t want to harm him, not at all, but neither did she want to be harmed.</p><p>“You never did answer me,” she said, carefully, keeping a close eye on his hands in case they moved towards her, ready to call for the fire if he gave her the reason to. “For what purpose did you come to my home?”</p><p>“I am looking for a wizard called Gandalf.”</p><p>His eyes remained closed. His tone was a mix of impatience, frustration, and annoyance.</p><p>“Oh,” Bella managed, thrown, and ran a nervous hand down her dress to smooth it down. “I- I don’t suppose you are Gandalf’s brother, then?”</p><p>Finally, the blue eyes snapped open and fixed their incredulous gaze on her.</p><p>“I assure you, Mistress Hobbit,” the dwarf said, after a pause, “that Gandalf is most certainly no kin of mine.”</p><p>“A friend of yours I hope to be, nonetheless.”</p><p>A shadow fell on Bella and a look confirmed it was Gandalf who had come to stand behind her as if out of nowhere, the wooden staff in hand. He didn’t seem content at all, quite the opposite – the ancient lines on his face had deepened, his mouth was set in a grim line, as he regarded the dwarf from below his eccentric hat.</p><p>“That remains to be seen,” said the dwarf, haughty once more, but Bella didn’t pay it much mind now that the culprit had returned to the crime scene.</p><p>Instead, she shook a finger at Gandalf, sternly – a wizard or not, he deserved to get a talking to for what he had done to her fence – and let him know what she thought of him vandalizing respectable hobbit property. Gandalf didn’t interrupt and had the sense to hang his head and look quite contrite, enough so that Bella felt her ire cooling down, gradually.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” she said apologetically after she had given him quite an earful, “but you should respect other people’s property. It took me the whole day to paint the fence and you quite ruined my hard labour.”</p><p>“You are right, my dear girl,” said Gandalf with a sigh. “You are quite right. I apologize for my thoughtless vandalism.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s all right,” said Bella, relieved they were no longer at odds. “Although I would appreciate it, if you could take the time to whet the carving off – at your earliest convenience, please.”</p><p>There was a cough, and Gandalf let out a sigh, this time an exasperated one, even as Bella gave the dwarf his full attention once more.</p><p>While she had scolded Gandalf, she had made sure to keep an eye on the dwarf just in case he would get any ideas about swords and distracted hobbits. The fireball was still in the hallway, ready to come to her if called, but she felt fairly certain he wouldn’t try anything, especially not now that Gandalf was there. Besides, he didn’t seem like he was inclined to go hurting hobbits, not really, a sword or not.</p><p>The dwarf coughed again, pointedly, his glare fixed on Gandalf before the blue eyes found Bella’s, suddenly quite intent on her, and there was yet another exasperated sigh as Gandalf leant on his staff with both hands. Brothers or not, these two seemed to know each other - and rather well at that. It was curious indeed.</p><p>“I suppose introductions are in order,” Gandalf sounded reluctant like he didn’t like the prospect of introducing them at all, but went on nonetheless, “Bella, this is Thorin Oakenshield, the-“</p><p>“Blacksmith,” Thorin cut him off, rather rudely. “I’m a blacksmith.”</p><p>Gandalf muttered something about Mahal and mercy, and said then, “Thorin, this is Miss Bella Baggins.”</p><p>Stiffly, Thorin reached out for her hand and brought it up to his lips as he gave her a bit of a bow.</p><p>“At your service, my lady,” he said, letting go off her hand, and Bella, flustered by the unexpected kiss – hobbits didn’t go about kissing other people’s hands – gave him an instinctive curtsey like any a female Baggins would and responded, “At yours and your family’s.”</p><p>“I shall hold the memory of you speaking your mind to Gandalf close to my heart for when I am in a dire need of a merry thought.”</p><p>“My dear Bella,” said Gandalf, and if his tone was sharper than she was used to, she didn’t comment on it, “I had hoped to introduce you to Thorin’s nephews, Fili and Kili, but it seems as though-”</p><p>“You dare mention their names, wizard!”</p><p>All the charm gone from his manner, Thorin’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword – the fireball was instantly at the threshold – but his eyes settled on Bella standing there between him and Gandalf and he seemed to rein in his temper, letting go off the sword, never drawing it. With his blazing eyes fixed on Gandalf, he took a breath, then another, and Bella was quick to push the flames back inside before anyone noticed them.</p><p>“You sent a letter to my nephews, Tharkûn,” Thorin’s tone was icy, “you sent <i>my mithril</i> a letter and you tried to lure them in here with promises of work and financial gain. ‘Come to Hobbiton and you shall make your uncle proud with your earnings,’ you told them and they started packing and preparing like the young dwarrows they are, barely past their majority, too trusting for their own good, eager for adventure. You tried to lure them here – for what purpose, I do not know, but I intend to find out. If I hadn’t happened to come back from my business further north in time, they would now stand here in my place.”</p><p>It turned out Gandalf had not meant himself and his brother when he had asked, if “a friend and his brother” could stay in Bag End for the summer. Instead, he had meant Thorin’s nephews, Fili and Kili, whom he had invited over to Hobbiton to work as blacksmiths. They resided in the Blue Mountains, and since work there was scarce, dwarrows needed to look for their earnings elsewhere, if they wished to survive through each winter. Since the nephews in question were young, Gandalf had decided it would be for the best if they were to stay with someone they could trust, someone who could teach them the way of hobbits, and Bella – as his old friend – had been the obvious choice.</p><p>“Mahal spare me from the half-truths of scheming wizards!</p><p>“We haven’t had a blacksmith in a long while, Master Oakenshield,” Bella said as calmly as she could, trying to diffuse the tension heavy in the air. “I don’t even know when we last had one, so long ago it was. Hobbits care little for metalwork, although we find metal items necessary. We rely on Bree and passing merchants to provide such for us. If we were to have a blacksmith in Hobbiton, I dare say he would have as much work as he would dare to take on, not only in Hobbiton but in all the Shire.”</p><p>Thorin inclined his head to her, although his narrowed eyes were still locked on Gandalf.</p><p>“I do not doubt <i>your</i> words, Miss Baggins – just as I’m certain Gandalf is not being honest about his intentions for my nephews. I have known him for long and he has never once suggested any work opportunities to my kin, but now he has a sudden need for <i>my nephews</i> – I know you are trying to sell frozen water drops for pearls, wizard. Do not pretend otherwise. Why did you want to introduce my kin to Miss Baggins? Why did you want them to come to Hobbiton? Do not lie.”</p><p>“Wizards do not lie,” said Gandalf, harrumphing, and Bella, for her part, was quite ready to believe Gandalf – but Thorin remained unconvinced.</p><p>“If it is as you said and you merely tried to aid my mithril in finding work,” he said, “then you wouldn’t mind it if it was I who stayed here in Hobbiton for the summer since my earnings would still go to my kin and their needs. You know it is I who taught my nephews all they know about forging – I dare say I am still somewhat better at it than they are, so Hobbiton would not be left wanting.”</p><p>Bella thought this was a marvelous idea – she had so many pots and pans that needed fixing – but Gandalf didn’t offer as much as a twitch of his lips. The brim of his hat cast a shadow on his face and it had his face looking quite ominous indeed.</p><p>“Hobbits are a merry kind that value friendship, music, and good food above all else - your young kin would enjoy their company,” he said after a pregnant pause. “You are the most honourable dwarf I know, Thorin, but how do you think you would fit amongst this merry folk?”</p><p>“My thoughts are none of your concern, wizard.”</p><p>To Bella, Thorin said, much more politely,</p><p>“Miss Baggins, I know you have been caught in this without any fault of your own – rest assured, you are not the first innocent Gandalf uses to reach his goals, nor will you be the last – but I still would ask you, if you would be as kind as to point me to the direction of the nearest tavern. I would make arrangements for my stay for the summer to find out more about his plans for my kin, but first I need a place to stay for the night.”</p><p>“Oh, but you can stay with me!”</p><p>Later, when she thought back on it, she was never quite sure what had prompted her to make such an offer – perhaps it was her Tookish side, perhaps the thought of returning alone into the empty smial when she had been looking forward to having company of friends. Indeed, she was as surprised by this turn of events as Gandalf seemed disapproving and Thorin suspicious, but still she insisted,</p><p>“You have travelled far and wide, Master Oakenshield. I ask you to stay with me as my guest to share your stories in the evenings. And if you could occasionally help me with some of the more demanding chores, I shall provide you with seven meals a day for the duration of your stay.”</p><p>“Seven meals a day,” Thorin repeated, slowly. “That is quite excessive. What exactly would you have me do for such meals?”</p><p>“You could start by fixing my fence,” she suggested, wondering if that would be honourable enough for him. “I mean no offence to you, Gandalf, but Thorin is a blacksmith and I’m not sure how good you are at fixing fences.”</p><p>“I am terrible, in all honesty,” Gandalf said with a wince. “I am better at tearing walls down than building them. That is how I was made and I cannot change it.”</p><p>***</p><p>They ate together. Thorin helped Bella to carry all the food outside so that Gandalf could enjoy the supper with them at the fence.</p><p>“I do not understand,” said Thorin as he spooned up the soup, running a finger along the wooden planks as if to study them closer, “how is this flimsy excuse of a barricade holding you away from her yard, Tharkûn? How is it that you cannot enter her property? Does this wood hold magic?”</p><p>***</p><p>After some prompting, a reluctant Gandalf did attest to Thorin’s character.</p><p>“He will not harm you,” he told Bella with certainty. “He may be rude, stubborn, impatient - and he is an outrageous dancer when drunk - but at his very core he is a protector. Although you would certainly prefer the merry company of his jolly nephews, you are safe with him.</p><p>“And if you make me into a liar, Thorin, by proving my words wrong and harming her,” he added, pleasantly, “there is no wall thick enough that can protect you from my wrath.”</p><p>And so it was decided that Thorin would stay the summer in Bag End with Bella.</p><p>So captivated by her fascinating summer guest she was that it wasn’t until she was lying in her bed under the warm covers – after Gandalf had gone to wherever wizards went and Thorin was settled in the guest room for the night – that the thought came to her:</p><p>This would ruin whatever remained of her reputation.</p><p>The thought filled her chest with ice, but she couldn’t help the slow grin spreading on her face.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for the comments and kudos! I really appreciate it when people let me know they're reading something I wrote, so thank you.</p><p>I would love to hear your thoughts on the fic so far, so please, make my day! :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Did you like it? Interested in reading more? If so, please leave me a comment.</p><p>Also, stay safe out there!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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